


I'm Yours?

by lavenderlotion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, At the start, Bonding, Chris is 17, Claiming, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Feels, First Kiss, High School, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Murder, Peter is 14, Peter is in his feels, Petopher Appreciation Week 2018, Semi-Public Sex, Teen Angst, Torture, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-02-19 04:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: Peter doesn't need a tutor, hedoesn't. It doesn't matter what Mr. Harris thinks. Besides, Peter knows his own worth and he is far too good for some gangly, awkward kid to be helping him pass Chemistry.And then he meets Christopher Black.It all goes down hill from there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rufferto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufferto/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy, sorry it isn't yet finished!  
> Go check out young Chris Argent, you’ll thank me  
>  _Warning: In the beginning of this fic, Peter is fourteen and Christopher is seventeen._

Peter was annoyed. Not only was he annoyed but he was more than a little upset. Who the  _ hell _ did Mr. Harris think he was? Clearly he thought himself better, if the way he pranced around his classroom demanding respect was anything to go by. It was disgusting how highly the man thought of himself, how he shamelessly placed himself above all others in a room. In truth, he was nothing more than an Omega playing at being an Alpha - alone and taking full advantage of the only authority he held.

Even though the man was human Peter thought it was an apt comparison and he couldn’t find it in himself to like the man one bit, no matter how hard he had tried. He wouldn’t respect someone who hadn't earned it,  _ couldn’t _ . And now  _ this _ ! To - to be degraded in such a way! Peter was better than this, better than what some silly human thought of him, anyway.

He was meant for great things - of that he knew. Maybe he wasn’t going to be Alpha - he didn’t care, it was fine,  _ he didn’t care _ \- but he was being groomed as their packs Left Hand, a position he found far more desirable. He was too be the Enforcer of the pack, operating in the peripheral and dealing with threats before the rest of his pack even found out about them. 

He was clever, quick and sharp and his mind moved fast. He was able to spin believable tales from nothing, craft words in such a way that people would  _ believe _ , without question what he was telling them. Physically, he was even better. Fast and lithe and at fourteen he was proud to be one of the better fighters in his pack. He  _ excelled _ when it came to be being a strong, dependable wolf. He had to be, if he was going to take over his uncle’s mantle one day.

So Peter knew his own worth. He was young, sure, but he was more than capable. It didn’t matter if  _ Adrian Harris _ couldn’t see so, was basing his intelligence off of something as silly as a few test scores. He didn’t need the help, refused to even toy with the thought that he might. Never would he choose something like this for himself. There was no way he wasn’t capable on his own and he  _ wouldn't _ accept the help. Well, that was if he had the choice. Instead he was being  _ forced _ into a vile, horrible situation. God, he had not a clue how he was going to survive. 

Alright, maybe he was being a tad dramatic. But, but a  _ tutor _ ! It was absolutely beneath him.

* * *

Christopher Black was the most attractive boy Peter had ever seen. Now, Peter wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself, thought self-denial to be an absolute waste of time. Why would he hold himself back from going after something he wanted? Why should he restrain himself over things he desired? It was silly. Besides, wolfs didn’t get nearly as hung up on such simple things as  _ ’sexuality’ _ . Attraction was more than that, was something all senses actively participated in.

And Christopher was gorgeous. 

Aesthetically he was near flawless. With a jaw beyond chiseled, Christopher had a dusting of light stubble around his mouth and chin. He was high-cut cheek bones and hard angles, his hair short where it gently curled backwards. He was bright, bright eyes, clear and shining and lighting his entire face. He was pretty and he was handsome and Peter wasn’t sure if words could do the other boy justice. 

He was built in a way that Peter wasn’t. While Peter was tight, lean lines of strength, Christopher was far bulkier. His physical strength was clear to see in the stretch of older boys t-shirts, the fabric straining over well-built biceps and stretching wide over his chest. It was even more impressive that the boy was human, that he had to  _ work _ for what Peter naturally had. 

His heart was calm and steady and it beat in such a way that fascinated Peter. He had never heard such a steady rhythm before, had never once heard a person's heartbeat stay as steady as Christopher's did. But what really got to Peter was the boys smell. He smelled  _ rich _ , pine and sage and lavender and all that the woods had to offer, just this side of musky and it was  _ addicting _ to the wolf.

He was also Peter’s tutor.

Peter was taken aback the first time he attended a session with the older student. He had been expecting someone far - well, far nerdier. He was expecting long, dangling limbs and too-big glasses. Christopher was anything but what Peter had been expecting and it had thrown him off his game. It had left him feeling wrong footed and unprepared, had dropped his defences for just a moment too long.

He had embarrassed himself, stuttering over his own name and he felt like an idiot. It was such a simple thing to do, a common task that there was no reason he should have misspoke. He had felt himself began to blush, shame crawling up his neck to settle high on his cheeks. How was he supposed to amount to anything when he couldn't even - wasn’t able to -. It didn’t matter. It happened and it was over with and he moved on. Fortunately, the rest of the meeting went better, though they hadn’t done much that first day asides creating a sort of guideline for them to follow.

The next session had gone smoother. Christopher’s voice calmed something in Peter, the deep rumble lulled his wolf into a quiet slumber, the older boys scent wrapping around Peter and putting him at ease. It wasn’t a reaction he had too many people, though he also didn’t go out of his way to talk to anyone outside his pack, either. So, as much as he  _ loathed _ it, still hated Harris for forcing him into, he continued to attend the sessions - if only to see Christopher.

And Christopher was patient. He took his time explaining the material, was slow and helped Peter when the boy was stuck. And though it pained Peter to admit, it was what he needed. Chemistry was, admittedly, not Peter’s best subject. And while he thought five weeks into the school year was a  _ little _ early to decide whether or not Peter needed extra help - he couldn’t say he minded. 

Material he hadn't been able to wrap his mind around those first few weeks now made far more sense. He was able to understand what he was being taught and while he still sat passively through Chemistry, listening as Harris drowned on and on, he now looked forward to quiet afternoons spent in the library.

* * *

Peter wasn’t sure when it changed, when his thought process shifted but it was obvious now.

Peter had never been one to particularly enjoy school. He knew he’s maturity level was greater than his years and he often found himself unsure in how he was supposed to relate to his peers. He was a wolf, was so much  _ more _ than any of them, superior in every sense. And none of them,  _ no one  _ was aware of the predator walking among them. It had long ago caused a rift between himself and his classmates and Peter found it hard to care.

He had his pack. He had his family and his mother. He had all he needed and he didn’t find himself craving more. 

So it was silly, almost beneath him to be thinking of the older boy as often as he had found himself doing so. But Peter couldn't seem to keep Christopher off his mind. The way Christopher's forearms flexed when he reached across Peter to grab something, the way the boy's scent sharpened with approval when Peter was doing well.

The boys laugh. Deep and rich as it rumbled through Christopher’s chest and Peter wanted to  _ feel it _ , know if would rumble through his body were the noise pressed into his skin. He wanted to know what Christopher would taste like, if would be as good as he scented, sharp against his tongue.

It was all ridiculous and Peter had no idea where it was all coming from. Yes, he spent more time with his tutor than he did anyone else - at least anyone who wasn’t pack - but he seemed to be unable to turn his mind away. Where he was not what he was doing held difference when it came to where his thoughts stray, and it was rather annoying.

Christopher was just a boy. A terribly attractive, sweet smelling boy yes, but just a boy nonetheless.  _ Human _ . He was human and Peter had never once thought himself capable of even being attracted to someone so weak. But - maybe it was that Christopher  _ wasn’t _ weak. That he carried himself with the same graceful power his own Alpha did, that the slope of the man’s shoulders demanded attention.

Christopher may be human but he was no beta.

Peter was often a creature ruled by his own instincts - had no problem being more wolf than man. In his opinion, it made him better,  _ more _ than those who ignored their base instincts. He listened to his wolf, trusted in its judgment. And lately, lately it had been pacing in his subconscious, agitated and snappish and Peter refused to think about why. The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

There was no way,  _ no way _ his wolf would make such a rash decision. Him and his wolf were too much alike to go and be so foolish. Only - only he could feel the beginnings of a bond, how his wolf was reaching out, was  _ wanting _ . Peter didn’t know what to think about it, either. He knew it had to happen someday, though he always imagined that day further in the future. He was a teenage boy with a werewolves libido, his wolf was bound to show interest in  _ someone _ .

Peter wasn’t sure what to make of it knowing that someone was Christopher.

And yet, Peter still found himself setting out neat circles of dough along a baking sheet. Cookie dough that he had  _ made _ , no less He was thankful most of his family was out, even more thankful that Talia more often that not deemed him unworthy of her time. He didn’t want to explain himself, not when - well, not when it wasn’t yet worth talking about. 

At this point, Peter was determined to think nothing of it. It would go away, he  _ knew _ it would go away. He also knew it would only go away if he ceased contact with Christopher and that - well not only was that entirely impractical, Peter didn’t even want to entertain the thought. It was fine. If he ignored it - and oh, how his wolf whined at the thought - it would surely go away, fade out until it was nothing more. And if not - well he could handle it. He was going to be the pack’s left hand, surely he could deal with something as pesky as a half formed mating bond.

When Christopher bit into one of his cookies, flashing the wolf a sweet, soft smile before continuing on with their lesson for the day, Peter thought maybe - maybe he wouldn’t have to ignore it.

* * *

Peter wouldn’t say he was nervous. He was hesitant to put a name on his feelings, on the hollowness of his stomach, the soft shaking of his fingers. His wolf was excitedly pacing in the corners of his mind at what he was planning to do, all but howling with glee and what today could bring. He was apprehensive - unsure in himself and it wasn’t a feeling Peter liked. Christopher made him feel disarmed, unsteady on his own feet in a way he never had before.  

It scared the human in Peter. Never before had he let someone get so close. Never before had he  _ wanted _ to let someone so close. He was content with the circle of people he surrounded himself with, didn't need anyone more than his pack to care for him.

Yet, he found himself  _ excited  _ to see Christopher. Yes, they had yet to see each other outside of their scheduled tutoring sessions but it didn’t mean they hadn’t gotten to know each other, at least somewhat. After nearly two months Peter knew enough that he was sure he wanted to know more, that both he and his wolf were - intrigued. 

And Peter was never one to shy away from what he wanted. No, he went for his prey, chased and caught and slaughtered and that was exactly what he was going to do now. His shirt fit snug across his body, his jeans equally tight as he showed himself off - a different type of predator.  He knew he was attractive, another perk of being a wolf, and he knew how to use his appearance to get what he wanted. 

He had more cookies with him though he was telling himself it was because Christopher had asked for more - not because his wolf desperately wanted to provide, to prove itself. He sauntered into the library, shoulders back and head held high as though he had nothing to lose. He would be fine, even if Christopher turned him down. Of course Peter couldn’t think of a reason he  _ would _ be turned down.

Peter had observed Christopher. He wouldn’t dare call it stalking as he never followed the other off property but Peter had made sure to be - aware of Christopher. Peter watched him in the hallways, looked for him in the lunchroom. And Christopher was often alone. Of course he didn't know much, the three grades between them cutting Peter off from hearing any gossip there may be.

It was - comforting, to know that Christopher spent as much on his own as Peter did - at least in school. If things went according to plan neither would have to sit alone during lunch any longer. They would have someone to walk next to in the hallways, someone to meet after class and chat at their lockers with. Peter was hesitant to imagine it, though. He wasn’t one to set himself up for disappointment. 

“Good afternoon, Peter,” Christopher said with a smile and Peter flushed. The older boys lips had always formed Peter’s name like it was something soft, precious. He had done so well at ignoring it, especially as Christopher almost only ever said it in greeting, though today it felt charged, felt like more.

“Hello Christopher,” He kept his smile in order, a delicate twist of his lips as opposed to the wolfish grin he wanted to let out. He set the cookies on the table beside the other’s books and watched as Christopher immediately took off the lid and dug in. 

“These are  _ so _ good.” It was said around a mouthful of food and Peter felt joy at watching someone normally so reserved openly show enthusiasm over Peter’s baking.

Christopher had just finished a fourth cookie and was already starting to get his books ready, pulling out writing utensils and organizing himself and Peter figured the time was now. He took a breath, tried his best to calm his wolf.

“Would you like to go out sometime?” Peter asked, shoulders squared. He wasn't going to let himself come off as weak, not when he knew better. 

“Go out?” Christopher blinked slowly, turning his body to better look at Peter and blankly staring at the uonger boy.

“As - on a date? Would you like to go out on a date?” Peter clarified, letting a charming smile take over his face. He kept his posture relaxed, not daring to show off how nervous he truly was.

“With you?” 

The question shocked Peter, though he was certain he didn’t show it. Instead he simply nodded, replying as simply as he could. “Well yes, with me.”

“No. No I don’t think so,” Christopher said the words slowly, and although Peter had heard them he tilted his head as though he would suddenly hear something different.

He didn’t hear anything else and he blinked against the sudden burning of his eyes, “All right. I think I’ll be off. I’ll see you at our next session.”

Peter left before Christopher could protest, swinging his bag over his shoulder and making sure to put an extra sway in his hips - just in case Christopher was watching. He may not be, but Peter was nothing if not a petty creature. He blinked quickly as he left he library, sucking in a sharp breath and trying to clear his nose of Christopher's scent.

Even though the bond was nothing more than a half-spun web, weak and brittle and barely there, Peter felt when it snapped. His wolf howled at the rejection, whined it’s loss loud in his mind. He itched beneath his skin and he suddenly felt too tight. He wanted to run, to get away. Put distance between himself and the boy who had just told him  _ no _ .

It hurt. He had no idea rejection could hurt so much. His chest felt heavy, dark with pain and his eyes were still burning. He bypassed his locker, walking swiftly through the halls. There was no way he was going to break out into a run yet. Even though the school was likely empty he knew it would draw far too much attention so he kept his steps silent. 

He pushed out of the front doors, breathing in and in and in and letting the smell of the preserve calm both him and his wolf. The creature was clawing in his mind, trying to fight its way to the surface. Peter kept his head down, more than aware of his flashing eyes. He strolled across the parking lot and hit the tree line, shedding his bag and his clothes and  _ shifting _ .

It was something he had always done well, abandoning his human form and melting into four legs, running through the forest as fast as he could. He howled his despair, his conscious thoughts slipping away as instinct took over. He couldn’t run home, not yet so he veered away from the path, running deeping into the persrce.

He heart still ached, the soft light of a new bond  _ gone _ , its absence leaving him hallowed out and incomplete. He heard the pounding of paws long before he smelt his mother but he didn’t slow down, instead pushed himself hard, running and running and trying to run fast enough, far enough, that it would stop hurting.

* * *

The scent of alcohol and teenage arousal was heavy in the room and although Peter wasn’t drunk, he felt far away - like he was floating. The music was too loud and the lights flashed too bright. There were too many bodies, skin rubbing against his own and smearing scents all over him. He didn’t want to be here.

He didn't want to be alone, either. 

It was the only reason he was this damn party.

It had been merely a week since Christopher's rejection and his wolf had made it completely impossible to spend any time with the other boy. Whenever Peter attempted to make his way to their tutoring session the creature inside him protested. He couldn’t even make it into the library without his wolf snarling so viciously it left him feeling disoriented.

So he hadn’t seen Christopher since that day. He also hadn’t left his bedroom except for school. He had finally,  _ finally _ stopped running only to curl up tight, tuck his snout into his mothers belly as he whined,  _ mourned _ the loss he felt. They had trotted home together and Peter had made his way to his room. Thankfully he hadn’t had to say anything.

His mother had yet to try and speak with him, instead brought meals to his room when he didn’t show up to them. He was lucky to be able to avoid Talia. He knew his sister would only use the information to cause him harm and Peter wasn’t sure what he would do if his sister used it against him.

Maybe that was why he didn’t say no when an upperclassmen - one he had never seen before - all but stumbled into him, restring a heavy hand on the wall next to Peter’s head. The boy was too close, Peter’s wolf snarling in his head even as Peter tried to breath through his instincts. The kid reeked, body order and sweet and the sharp sting of alcohol. His eyes were heavy lidded and rimmed red and Peter wasn’t sure if the boy knew what he was doing.

Peter didn’t stop him when he slotted their lips together.

As first kisses go, Peter had expected more. However, it was disgusting enough to focus his attention. That was the point of coming tonight, to lose himself in his physicality, allow himself to leave behind humanity if only for a few moments. Peter just needed his brain to slow down, for his wolf to stop whining. 

The boy was suddenly gone and Peter was left blinking up at Christopher. Well, an angry Christopher. The older boy was breathing heavy, eyes bright and brow pulled down angrily. Peter barely spared a glance to watch the kid fall to the floor at Christopher’s rough handling before Christopher was crowding close.

The older boy stepped into Peter’s space, a hand heavy and warm on his hip - creeping up under his shirt to rest his fingers against Peter’s skin. 

“What the fuck was that?” Christopher ground out and Peter let himself startle for a moment, smirk sliding onto his face when he realized Christopher was  _ jealous _ .

“My Christopher, whatever do you mean?” he said, voice light.

“What the fuck was that jackass doing to you?” Christopher was mad, angry enough that his face was red with it. The bright flush on his cheeks wasn’t from alcohol - no, Peter could smell that the other boy was completely sober.

“I believe he was trying to swallow my tongue, for how much what he was doing resembled a kiss.” Peter lifted his nose with a pout though his eyes were still shining, his heart racing. Christopher was close, and he wanted, he wanted so much.

“ _ Why _ ?” It almost sounded like it hurt to ask, the tight clench of Christopher’s jaw and the sharpness in his bright eyes.

“I think the better question, darling, is why do you care?” His voice was teasing when he asked, but Peter could feel the insecurity, the uncertainty start to swell up and he shoved it down as vicious as he could.

“You’re mine,” Christopher growled out, all husky, human vocal chords.

“Hmm, prove it.”

And he did.

Christopher brought himself closer, slotting a thigh between Peter’s legs and bringing their lips together. It was soft for only a moment before Christopher let his tongue flick out, swiping along Peter’s bottom lip. Peter opened up, sucking Christopher's tongue into his mouth, wrapping an arm around the taller boys neck and another around his waist, pulling their bodies flush together.

He kept the kiss going, biting and pulling at Christopher’s lower lip, grinding his hips forward. Everything felt too sharp, so good and so intense. His wolf was close to the surface and Peter was having a hard time focusing enough to keep his shift down - he still didn’t stop. He opened up for Christopher, let the boy ravish his mouth and gave as good as he got, refusing to submit. Not now, not yet. He wouldn’t give himself over so easily again and he bit down hard in retaliation for the week of pain the boy had caused.

“Fuck,  _ fuck Peter _ ,” Christopher said, voice deeper than Peter had ever heard it. It made him want to bare his neck but then Christopher was palming his ass, grabbing fistfuls of fat and pulling Peter closer, grinding them together at the hip.

Peter bit at Christopher's’ neck, sucking a dark, dark mark into the skin. It was something he was surprised to be allowed though it could be that Christopher was too caught up in the moment to fully notice what was going on. He felt Christopher’s dick twitch against his own and he rutted forward, biting down hard enough to leave indents. Christopher groaned low, body shuddering

“Good boy, good job.” Peter praised, his own dick still straining hard in his pants and he kept rutting forward, Christopher's release sharp and bitter in his nose. It helped to push him over the edge and he spilled into his own jeans, breathing harsh and damp over Christopher's neck.

He knees buckled but Christopher just pushed him further into the wall, holding him with the fistfuls of ass he had yet to let go over. Peter couldn’t say he minded, with how Christopher was panting harshly into his ear, his chin rubbing up and down over Peter’s temple. It was such a wolfish move, such a basic form of scenting that it made him shiver, his wolf prowling in his mind.

“So, I’m yours?” Peter asked, teased, once he had calmed his heart. The party was still loud around them and it didn’t appear as if anyone had caught on to what they were doing, alone as they were in their own corner.

“Yes.” Was said much more seriously than Peter had imagined, though again it sounded like it took great effort to say. Christopher’s heart had remained perfectly steady, no trace of a lie.

Peter smiled something soft, resting his head on the wall behind him and tangling his fingers into the hair at the back of Christopher’s neck.

“I believe I can handle that.”


	2. Chapter 2

Peter, thankfully, was too busy over Christmas break to think much about the development in his and Christopher’s relationship. His family was large when they all gathered together and his time had been spent entraining young cousins he hadn’t seen since the year before. His future position within the pack gave him slight leeway and while he was able to get out of babysitting during the late evening, he was still fourteen and the youngest of the ‘non-children’. 

Talia was closest to his age, though she was already twenty-two. She wasn’t saddled with the children of the family during the day - though Peter couldn’t say he was opposed. Spending an entire day with Talia sounded something awful. So, Peter had been kept busy. Entertaining family was a full-time affair and his mother was nothing if not a perfectionist. He hadn’t time to relax while he was making sure everything ran smoothly. 

It was better that way, better if he didn’t have time to think about what had happened at the party. Peter was determined not to make it into a big deal, if only to himself. He tried to stay detached, to keep a calm mind while thinking about what happened. In reality, he was a fourteen-year-old boy who had sex with the boy he liked. He  _ wanted _ to make it a big deal, wanted to tell everyone he knew. He was itching with it, the excitement of the event fresh under his skin. 

But Peter didn’t have many friends. It was a fact, one he had long gotten used to. He didn’t need others and it was  _ fine _ . Instead, in the early hours of the morning when his brain was too full to let him sleep, he thought about it. He thought about how Christopher had felt against him, warm breath and hard muscles and so, so possessive. It still gave his wolf a thrill when he thought back to the moment, how Christopher had so blatantly declared his interest.

Not only that, but Peter couldn’t deny getting off on how public the whole situation had been. He liked knowing people could have seen them, that they would know he now had a claim on Christopher. It reassured both him and his wolf, made him feel steadier, more grounded. 

He still only thought about it late at night, though. He had been tempted to tell his mother, had to refrain himself from running to her with the news. It wasn’t that she would reject him, he had no fear of that. Rather, Peter held himself to a high standard. He hadn’t acted a child since he had been too young to know better. He thought himself a certain level of maturity and he wanted to maintain that.

Peter presented himself a certain way, had long ago crafted a persona that he was determined to hold firm. He wouldn’t act like a silly, lovesick teenager. No, he was far too good for that. He was going to hold a high position in his pack when his time came, it was a knowledge that he carried with pride. 

He was going to be strong, was going to do  _ good _ . He could keep his pack safe, would do what needed to be done with ease. That he was sure of. If he couldn’t be Alpha, if his  _ sister _ was going to do so, he would be the best Enforcer his pack had ever seen.

So, instead of gushing to his mother he kept it inside, waited out the break. He wasn’t worried when he heard nothing from Christopher, didn’t let himself worry. 

They hadn't once spoken about their holiday plans and he knew Christopher could have been doing anything. During their sessions, Peter had learnt that Christopher and his family had only moved to town a year before, so it was entirely possible the older boy was off visiting family. 

Besides, it wasn’t all that big a deal. Sure, Peter could feel the restored mate bond bright in his chest, but he was able to ignore it. He knew it didn’t mean anything, that over his lifetime his wolf could potentially bond with multiple partners. That didn’t mean the bond didn’t - amplify certain things. Peter was sure he wouldn't be near as lonely if his wolf wasn’t so invested.

It was something else he chose to ignore. It was easier than dealing with the complicated feelings jumping around in his mind. His wolf was  _ itching _ for Christopher, for affection and love. It wanted to be close to the boy they deemed worthy of mating. Peter himself was just trying to stay calm, to ignore the rattling of his wolf in his subconscious.

It was more difficult than he had thought. Peter had never once tried to hard to ignore the creature within himself, had never pushed down his instincts in such a way. It was silly, he  _ knew _ it was silly to want Christopher so intensely. 

So Peter ignored the feeling, instead he carried on with his vacation as though nothing were out of the ordinary. As far as he was concerned, nothing  _ was _ out of the ordinary.

* * *

Peter, if asked whether or not he was excited, would be hard pressed to lie. It wasn’t so much that he was excited for school, goddess knew he was far too good for the place, it was that he was excited to see Christopher. He had still yet to talk to the boy, the break had only ended the day before and he wasn’t going to be the first to reach out.

No, if Christopher wanted him as badly as he let show at the party, he would come to Peter. Peter knew his worth and damn well knew he was good enough for Christopher - no matter how pretty the older boy was. At least that was what he kept telling himself, refused to even let the smallest glimmer of doubt push its way into his mind. 

Peter had caught his scent as soon as stepped through the doors. Christopher smelt like the same blend of herbs he always had, though there was something about his scent that was … richer, today. Deeper, something else layered over what Peter had come to think of as solely Christopher. It wasn’t unpleasant, exactly, but it left Peter on edge and he focused so strongly on parsing out what it could be that he almost walked into a locker. 

After that embarrassing moment, he held his head high during the rest of the morning, not discouraged when he didn’t see Christopher. The boy was three years older so most of their classes were nowhere near each other. Peter didn’t worry. Rather, he tried to focus in his classes. He could admit, if only to himself, that he was near giddy. Christopher was so close, was  _ here _ and he would finally get to see the other boy.

He tried to stay as calm as possible. The last thing he needed was to go building anything up in his head. After all, Christopher had rejected him once before and he remembered how much it had hurt. He didn’t to go through that again. He had told himself over his break that he would let things happen as they would and he wouldn’t be upset over whatever the outcome may be.

Still, he found himself excited - if only a little. Unfortunately, he didn’t see Christopher at lunch. The boy was absent, something Peter tried his hardest to keep from worrying over. He knew Christopher was a busy-body, had learned during their months of tutoring that he tried to keep busy. It was very plausible that he was just busy and Peter tried to his best to reassure himself the entire lunch break, all while eating alone.

Peter saw Christopher for the first time near the end of the day. He had been making his way to his final class, books lazily held under his left arm as he weaved through the wall. Normally he wouldn’t go this way. It took longer to get to where he needed to go but he found himself in no rush. While he normally got to class early, he found the disappointment at not seeing Christopher was slowing him down. 

He turned the corner on his heel only to have the breath knocked out of him. 

Christopher’s scent was strong here and Peter found him quickly. The older boy was standing at an open locker - presumably his - as he swapped books. It must be why the whole hall smelt like him, either that or Peter’s wolf was becoming sensitive to Christopher's smell. That meant more than Peter wanted to examine, though. Instead, he continued on his walk - it wasn't as though he were going to let himself be late to class - and tried his best not to stare.

That meant risking quick glances as he continued down the hall - and even if he wasn’t allowing himself to be late for class he was now taking his time - and Peter tried to be discrete. However, when Christopher turned around, light shirt pulling across his shoulders in a way that made Peter want to get to his knees, their eyes met and this time Peter  _ did _ stop. 

Christopher stared back for a long moment, not looking away and Peter had to fight down the urge to flash his eyes - or the even stronger urge to arch his neck in submission - as he held eye contact. He refused to look away first - Christopher had started this and the ball was in his court. Peter held his ground, a smirk pulling at his lips in a way he  _ knew _ look good and then -

And then Christopher turned around. He slammed his locker shut and strode out of the hall, leaving Peter staring into empty air. Peter blinked for a long moment as he tried to wrap his mind around what just happened. He - he didn’t  _ know _ what just happened, and that hurt almost as much as what Christopher just did.

He felt like a fucking fool.

Even after telling himself not to get his hopes, even after being firm in his resolve he still found himself hurt. He knew the hot pang of pain in his chest wasn’t something that was going to go away. It felt like rejection, fuck it  _ was _ rejection, and it sat sharply beside his heart. His wolf was nothing but confused and it rolled around his subconscious, baring its belly and throat in an effort to gain the attention of it’s chosen mate. 

Of course, Peter himself was doing no such thing. He continued onward, a faux-confident strut in his step and he stared ahead. He ignored the burning of his eyes - he was not going to let Christopher hurt him again, not after his previous rejection. Besides, Peter was smart enough to have seen this coming. It didn’t matter how hopeful he had felt, how secure he had been in the knowledge that what happened at that party meant something.

He was wrong. Loathe as he was to admit it.

He was wrong.

* * *

Peter, being who he was, ignored the gnawing hurt in his chest like it was the plague. He refused to let himself think of the rejection he felt. As far as he was concerned, nothing ever happened. It helped that no one knew, he realized, when he had no one to answer to. There was nobody questioning how his day had been, no one to worry about him. 

Peter had learned lots from his uncle, perhaps too much but Peter had always known his own limits, and so Peter knew how to mask his own scent. It was simple magic, child's play for any magic user and even though Peter was not one, he still found the spell more than manageable.

Hiding his scent meant no one asked him why he wreaked of misery.

He changed before going home each day following the incident. He did so in the school locker room, slipping out his shirt and too-tight jeans and changing into a set of clothes he had found at the bottom of his laundry. They smelled like him enough that even with his scent blocked, his family wouldn’t be able to pick up on what he was doing. After all, questions were the last thing he wanted.

He needed time to get himself grounded again. His wolf was going wild inside his mind, hurting at the rejection from a potential made. The first time he had been turned down had hurt - and maybe it had hurt because it had been his first time ever asking someone out - but this was far worse than that.

He had gotten to hold Christopher, to cover himself with Christopher’s scent and breath in the earth tongue of his arousal. He knew what Christopher felt like against his lips, how their bodies pressed together and it made the pain sharper. Over the days following the incident, he did his best to squash all he felt. Christopher was not worth being sad over and he tried his damn best to ensure he wouldn’t let himself be so weak.

As Peter was not a user of magic but rather a creation  _ of _ magic, he found keeping up the scent block to be particularly draining. After four days of doing so he realized keeping an extended hold on his scent was exhausting and it tired him out. It made it so his head felt light. It was the only excuse he had for showing up at the library, slowly making his way to his usual desk. He was awake enough that seeing Christopher already there - textbook and the notebook he had just for Peter laid out like always - was enough to shock him into dropping the spell.

Peter had not shown up to either of the two previous tutoring sessions they had that week. He figured if Christopher couldn’t look at him - which he hadn’t done, not once all week - then he wouldn’t be able to tutor Peter either. At least that was what Peter told himself, lest he have to admit seeing Christopher would be enough to break him down. 

Peter wasn’t weak and no way in hell would he let a  _ human _ bring him so low.

He was about to back up, walk away and scold himself for his foolishness when Christopher turned around. He was just as gorgeous as the first time Peter saw him and his heart stung. Peter had tried his best to ignore his wolf over the last few days. It was something he had never done before and something that made him feel increasingly out of control. 

He had always been a creature of instinct, his bond with his wolf strong. He never before tried to silence it the way he had been and the last few days had been increasingly trying because of it. Now it felt like his wolf was surging to the forefront of his mind and it took all of Peter’s hard-earned control not to let it shift his features.

“Hey!” Christopher said, his usually enthusiastic greeting clouded by the worry marring his face, “I wasn’t sure you would show up today.”

“Yet, you’re still here,” Peter drawled, crossing his arms over his chest when all he wanted to do was hug his body together else he fall apart.

Christopher just shrugged then nodded, turning to look at his books before back at Peter. Christopher didn’t say anything else, but having the older boy look at him was almost too much. Christopher was staring, was openly staring and he didn’t seem as though he were going to stop. He eyes looked far too hungry and Peter would have been able to tell what Christopher wanted without the sharp spike or arousal in his scent.

That may have been why Peter sat when Christopher pulled out the chair next to him. It was awkward, since Peter was doing his best to avoid eye contact while being able to feel Christopher’s stare. Worse still, Christopher wasn’t even doing anything, rather sat still in his seat. Peter let out a long sigh, having to push down his wolf as it tried to claw closer to Christopher’s scent.

“How have you been?” Christopher’s voice was measured, controlled in a way Peter hadn’t noticed before. 

Peter snorted, the sound bitter in the silence of the library. He owed Christopher nothing, hell, he had no idea why he even sat down to begin with. He didn’t think he would be getting anything out of this conversation - unless Christopher suddenly spoke up and knowing what Peter did, he doubted that would happen.

And he was right, when instead of speaking Christopher made a noise akin to a grunt and though the sound was heavy with frustration, when Christopher’s hand landed on the back of Peter’s neck it was nothing but gentle. Even still he had to choke back his first reaction, snarling and flashing his eyes was not the best option in this situation and he looked over when Chris tugged.

Peter fell into it, fuck how could he not, and he let Chris slot their mouths together. The drag of their lips was slow, soft in a way nothing they did at the party had been. Christopher’s hand was running along the back of his neck and it made Peter shiver, made him arch closer until their chests were near touching.

He had no idea what he was doing. Even still Peter went with it, let himself get lost in the feel. Kissing Christopher was good, was _so_ _good_ and he felt a little overwhelmed. The way Christopher was biting at pulling at his lower lip, sucking and running his tongue over the skin was making Peter hard in his pants, had his cock straining against his zipper and doing his best to hold back a whine.

Christopher’s heartbeat was pounding in Peter’s ear. It fought with his own until that was all Peter could hear. Christopher was all-consuming, his scent wrapping around Peter - though he still couldn’t name the underlying hint of  _ something _ as anything other than wrong. It was spicy with its arousal, dirtier than it usually was and Peter wanted to drown in it. 

Nothing else seemed to matter once Christopher slid his tongue into Peter’s mouth, though, and everything mattered even less when Peter crawled into Christopher’s lap.

* * *

The next day, Christopher walked straight past him without so much as glancing Peter’s way.

Peter went home long before the day was done.

* * *

When Peter finally got home, he didn’t bother blocking his scent. Not only had he left school without changing, but he couldn’t dredge up the concentration he would have needed to do so. He may not be proud of it, but Peter left school the second time Christopher avoided his eye in the hall. The first time could have been an accident - Christopher’s eyes hadn’t even strayed to Peter’s side of the hallway. But the second time they had made eye contact only for Christopher to quickly look away. 

That was not something Peter could pass off as accidental and the action hurt more than he thought it would. He figured at this point the sting of rejection would be a familiar pain, that he would have gotten used to the low burning of his gut. Instead, everything hurt more than it did that first afternoon in the library.

Peter had no idea why he kept letting himself be oiled. It should be clear that Christopher didn’t want the same things Peter did and Peter - well, he wasn’t going to settle. He deserved better. Fuck, he wasn’t even sure  _ what _ Christopher wanted, and that was maybe the worst part. After what happened the previous night and this morning, Peter could only assume that if they continued to do anything, it would all be behind closed doors - that whatever they did or became would be public knowledge.

Btu that didn’t explain how Christopher acted at the party. He had taken Peter apart in a room full of people - seemingly without a second thought. It didn’t make any sense, none of it added up and it made Peter all the more confused. He felt out of depth and it wasn’t a feeling he liked. 

The forest air held no traces of Christopher’s scent and it helped calm him a little. He felt less like he was suffocating, could take a deep breath without worry of breathing in Christopher. His wolf was just as desperate to be with its mate as ever before and Peter lost control before he had gotten home. He shifted onto four legs with a whine breaking through the quiet of the forest.

His mother let him in before he had a chance to scratch at the front door and for once he couldn’t bring himself to pretend to be okay. He wouldn’t be able to fool her into thinking he was okay anyway, not since he was in his full shift during the middle of a school day. That didn’t mean he didn’t think about it - and he did, for only a moment. He still wasn’t sure he was ready to tell anyone but he figured starting with his mother would be the safest bet.

That didn’t mean he was going to shift, though and instead, Peter trailed his mother into the living room. He waited for his mother to sit down before he climbed beside her, circling once before laying down with his nose pressed into her stomach. It was easier to think like this, easier with the scent of mother and Alpha washing over him.

He hadn’t felt this calm in days, weeks - not since the first time he asked Christopher out only to be turned out. Just the thought made him whine again. Things felt different with his wolf taking over most of his conscious. Things were simpler in this form, when his instincts sat at the forefront of his mind and his humanity taking a turn in his subconscious.

The pain was worse, though. Peter wasn’t able to push down the sting of rejection and his wolf felt it all. He wanted to howl with his loss, sing his mourning to mother moon. His heart felt too heavy, his chest tight and he had never been so upset in this form before. But knowing that his chosen mate had told him no  _ hurt _ . 

Worse, Christopher had led him on. It made everything so much worse and his wolf was having an even harder time reconciling the mixed signals Christopher had sent him. It was confusing and his wolf didn’t understand. Hell,  _ Peter _ didn’t understand and it just made everything worse. Now that he was letting himself  _ feel _ , not just pushing everything away as he desperately tried to keep busy.

Everything felt like too much.

His mother ran his hands through his fur again, starting up a mix between humming and rattling deep in her chest. The sound reminded him of being a cub, back when she would rock him to sleep at night and it was helping him to calm now. The sound was soothing and his mother's scent was more so. The comforting weight of her hand helped him to calm his feelings and he let out a loud huff of air.

He knew they were going to talk about it, that she would make him talk about and the thought didn’t seem as scary as it once did. Maybe it would be okay if his mother knew, at least only so she could help him figure out how to make it all stop hurting so bad. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huh, finally. well, at least i got around to it, even if i did ignore all of my other responsibilities while doing it. 
> 
> news flash, im a hot mess
> 
> [my tumblr!!!](https://brandileeder.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed the tags. This chapter contains kidnapping, light torture, and murder.
> 
> Note: I have begun using emdashes in my writing. You will notice that neither of the first two chapters has this.

Peter spent the next several months trying to piece himself back to together. He never would have thought something as silly as a  _ boy _ could hurt him in such a way. But, the first time he actively tried to sever the still-growing mate bond it felt like his chest was on fire. It was one thing to ignore the soft, gentle hum of the bond and another to try to get rid of it.

His mother had been a big help. Peter felt stupid for keeping it from her for so long, too long, but he hadn’t wanted anyone to see him so weak. He was supposed to be the packs next left hand, was supposed to be smart and ruthless and  _ deadly _ , and he had thought his heart-ache would have affected how his mother viewed him. It hadn’t, and Peter was thankful he had told her.

She had been understanding and free of judgment. It wasn’t that Peter was afraid of… of coming out—wolves didn’t have the same biases as humans did—but he had been afraid of being seen as so  _ human _ . His mother hadn’t begrudged him of that, though, and instead listened while he broke down in tears at the war waging in his chest.

She had been calm in the face of his despair and had patiently waited for him to stop talking before she gave him her opinion. She did not look kindly onto Christopher and while Peter didn’t want to view Christopher as a bad person, he knew the older boy had to be aware of his actions and what he was doing to Peter—at least to some extent. 

His mother didn’t force him to go to school the few days after he had first told her, and Peter was thankful for the generosity. He was far enough ahead in his classes that missing a few days wouldn’t put him behind and it gave him a few days to rest—or hide, if was being honest. 

After he told her, she had suggested severing the mate bond. It wasn’t formed enough for it cause any real damage, but she was worried if Peter continued to ignore it like he was, it would solidify. The rejection of a solidified mate bond was not something Peter wanted to go through, and he took his mother's advice and read through the books she gave to him. 

Severing a mate bond was not as easy as Peter had hoped it would be and it wasn’t going to happen as fast as he would have liked.

During his days off, he began meditating. It was something Peter had been doing for years now. , and he was familiar with the action of quieting his mind. There was a reason Peter had always been so close with his wolf—he knew how to reach inside his own consciousness and let the animal inside settle alongside him.

He did the same thing when trying to get rid of the bond. He needed to reach his wolf, to pull at its instincts and search through his own pack bonds. The one he had connecting him to Christopher was still nothing more than a soft, barely there whisper of light. It was a painful mix of affection and hurt, as if Peter’s own wolf couldn't decide how it felt about Christopher.

Peter could, though, and he knew cutting off the bond was the best option he had. He couldn’t let it grow, not with how Christopher seemed to enjoy toying with Peter. 

Christopher didn’t deserve his heartache

It pulled tightly at his chest, though, every time he thought about it. The back and forth from Christopher had left Peter’s wolf feeling off-kilter. It was confused, but more than that, it was hurt. Christopher’s rejection stung at Peter’s heart and his wolf hadn’t known what to do with the mixed signals Peter was being given.

That didn’t mean his wolf was ready to give up the bond, though, and Peter had to fight it every step of the way. If Peter and his wolf had both agreed that Christopher wasn’t a suitable match, the process would have been much easier—at least that was what Peter knew from the books he had read. 

Because Peter’s wolf didn’t agree, the process became drawn out and Peter had to go back to school before the bond was completely gone. He could admit to being nervous—as much as it annoyed him to do so—and he worried what would happen when he saw Christopher again. Peter knew that his wolf wanted to try again to get Christopher's approval and Peter found the divide between them tiring.

Being in school was hard on them both, human and wolf. Smelling Christopher had his wolf panting and Peter had to push down the whine that seemed to sit in the back of his throat during his days. He fought with the animal every time they came close to the older boy—his wolf wanting to submit and beg for its mates attention even as Peter studiously ignored him.

It didn’t help that Christopher seemed to look… worse for wear. Not that Peter was watching, because he  _ wasn’t _ , but he couldn’t miss the growing darkness under Christopher's eyes. He had always been gorgeous. Peter had lost himself in Christopher’s eyes before the boy had even said a word to him, but now—now they looked dimmed. He looked exhausted, and Peter noticed.

He also noticed every time Christopher came to school with a new injury. It wasn’t that he was watching him—Peter was still trying to serve the bond—but Peter’s wolf had yet to stop paying attention. It wasn’t every day that Christopher arrived injured, but it was often enough that Peter took notice. 

It wasn’t entirely unusual for Christopher to limp through the halls—though he hid it well, if Peter wasn’t watching him as closely as he did, he would never have noticed—and Peter could often smell the faint stench of healing injuries that lingered on Christopher's skin. Peter, sometimes, felt like he should do something—especially on the days Christopher showed up still smelling of his own blood, as though there were still an open wound yet to close. 

But, Peter found himself too petty to act on his worries. 

Besides, Peter had a feeling that helping Christopher would go entirely against his current goal, which was to get rid of the damn mate bond. 

* * *

Christopher had tried to talk to him, once, since that afternoon in the library. He had stunk like remorse and  _ something _ , the scent burning at the back of Peter’s throat as Christopher cornered him between classes. Peter hadn’t known what to do, had frozen up and been unable to move when Christopher backed him into a wall. It was embarrassing and Peter hated how much power the boy had over him.

Peter had only been able to move when Christopher leaned in for a kiss. Peter had snapped out of his stillness and shoved Christopher away, using a touch too much strength. He had caught the shock on Christopher's face before the boys entire body seemed to sag. In that moment, Christopher looked far older than the eighteen he was and Peter—Peter had wanted to steal him away until Chris no longer smelt of misery.

Instead, he had ran. Hadn’t stopped until he was home and could lock himself away in the safety of his own room, his den. He was safe there, and he was able to rage with his wolf where no one would know. Peter’s wolf had felt like it was going crazy, and he and his wolf once again felt like they were going to split apart. 

But Peter had won out, had refused to let his wolf get caught up in Christopher’s apparent acceptance—that wasn’t what the moment had been about, that much Peter knew. He didn’t know what, exactly, Christopher had wanted, but Peter wasn’t it.

Thankfully, that had been the last time they interacted, but by June, Peter was beyond frustrated with himself. After months of trying to rid himself of the bond, he had yet to succeed. His wolf was just as stubborn as Peter himself and the animal had not given in. Peter had no idea why his wolf was sure Christopher deserved another chance, but Peter wasn’t going to give it to him.

The only thought that brought him any peace was that Christopher was graduating this year and that Peter would never have to see him again. He knew Christopher was moving away for school—not because he was stalking him, but because he had  _ happened _ to hear the boy speaking with one of his teachers about his plans—and Peter was glad. 

Once Christopher was gone, he would properly be able to move on. His wolf would have nothing to fixate on and Peter was sure he would be able to sever the bond then. All he had to was hold out a few more weeks, and he would be fine. All the work he had thus far put in wouldn’t be for nothing. 

Peter continued to tell himself that as long as he could hold out until after Graduation, it would be okay. His wolf hadn’t lost it’s… fixation on Christopher, even though Peter had gotten better at avoiding the older boy during school hours. He continued to note Christopher's injuries, but any conflicting thoughts he had about going to someone were gone after that day in the hall.

Peter was more than ready for the school year to end and all that brought with it. His grades were as good as they had even been, and there was talk of Peter being advanced enough to advance a year in a few courses. The news made him swell with pride, and he focused on keeping his grades up during his last few weeks. 

The last week of school felt like freedom. Christopher was going to be gone and finally,  _ finally _ Peter would be able to rid himself of the bond his wolf had foolishly formed. He spent the whole week feeling high, riding the excitement in the air. He had been given work to go through over the summer to see where he could place the following year; if he could move up in his classes or not.

Peter was looking forward to trying his hand at them. He had the contact information of several teachers should he need clarification or guidance during his studies but Peter felt confident in his ability to work through the material he had been given. He knew it wasn’t ‘normal’ to look forward to extra work, but his mother was proud of him and the knowledge made Peter preen. 

He had been riding the high of finishing his Sophomore year, excited about what the summer was going to bring, and hadn't been paying nearly enough attention to his surroundings. He knew better, but he still let himself get caught up in his thoughts. Peter knew being part of such an established family of wolves came with its own risks, but Beacon Hills had been safe for so many years now. 

If he and his wolf hadn’t been at such odds he may have noticed he was being trailed in time to do something about it, but he hadn’t been able to fight against the cloth of wolfsbane when it was pressed to his mouth. The man behind him was large, larger than Peter’s slight frame but if Peter had been prepared, had seen him coming, he may have stood a chance. 

But Peter hadn’t, distracted and at war with himself, and he knew he only had himself to blame as he lost consciousness. 

* * *

Peter woke with a start, immediately straining against the ropes that had his wrists bound. His mind felt fuzzy, effects of the wolfsbane, though he tried his best to focus on his surroundings. His nose stung when he breathed in and he wasn’t surprised at the low level of wolfsbane in the air. It would work to keep him weak and Peter knew the flower was woven into the rope tying his arms back.

He opened his eyes, thankful for the dim lighting as his head continued to pound, and took a moment to look around. He was in a basement, though it was clearly unfinished. The cement floor was cold even through the denim of his jeans and the walls were a rough, unfinished drywall. Across from Peter was an entire shelving unit of weapons: knives and guns and an array of things Peter had never seen before, but could no doubt bring him pain.

He had no idea where he was—his senses were too weak to pick up on any identifying scents—but his stomach twisted in fear. He felt foolish, and he took a moment to hang his head in shame. This was his fault. He should have been paying more attention, should have been watching his surroundings like he  _ always _ did, but he had been distracted, he hadn’t been paying attention and now, and now —

Peter tried to calm his heart—it was pounding too hard and loud for him to make out any other noises in the room—but he found it hard to do when he couldn't even take a deep breath. He tried to keep himself from panicking and instead focused on clearing his mind. His wolf was pacing, agitated at being bound up and slowly poisoned, and Peter could feel how weak it was.

He couldn’t even push out his claws and he choked on the air when he inhaled. Peter had no idea how he was going to get out, get away. He wasn’t going to survive this and the realization had Peter choking back a sob. He—he was never going to see his family again, never get to Graduate High School. 

Peter suddenly felt like every bit of fourteen that he was. He was far too young to die, but he didn't see a way out of this. His heart sank with the realization and all he wanted was to hug his mother one last time, to bicker with Talia, cook alongside his father. He—he wanted the chance to make his family proud, to make himself proud, however that may be. He wasn’t going to get that chance. 

He was terrified.

Peter tried to get himself under control when the door opened at the top of the stairs. He had to strain his neck to see, and he hated that they weren’t in his direct line of sight. The light from the open door spilled into the basement and Peter tried to calm himself, blinked his eyes fast in hopes of drying them of any tears that had threatened to fall.

Two sets of shoes made their way down the stairs and Peter’s heart began to beat even faster. He stared straight ahead, but he kept his hearing as focused as he could. It was weaker than he would like, but he could hear enough to know there was no one else in the house. It didn’t bring him any comfort.

He didn’t turn his head when the first Hunter stepped off the last stair, rather staying focused on the far wall in front of him. Staring at the shelves of weapons wasn’t doing anything to calm his heartbeat, but at least it gave him some semblance of control. 

He refused to turn his head nor his eyes, so he didn’t get a good look at either Hunter until they were standing in front of him. When he did lay eyes on them, he felt his stomach drop. He knew who Gerard Argent was—it would be his job as left hand to watch out for threats to the pack, and Gerard Argent was one of the biggest threats out there—but he had to fight down bile at the sight of the girl behind him.

He knew nothing about her other than her name was Kate and that she was a year ahead of him in school. She hung with the popular crowd of her grade and Peter wasn’t apart of any crowd. He had only ever seen her from afar, and she had never held his attention. Fear settled stronger in his stomach at the realization that there had been a Hunter, an  _ Argent _ at his school, and he hadn’t known.

“Peter Hale,” Gerard said, his voice hard and dangerous, “You have done this family a great disservice.”

Kate giggled behind him but both Gerard and Peter ignored her. Peter was too busy tracking the man's movements, trying to watch them both and focusing so hard on that one task that it took a long moment for the words to register. He had no idea what the man was talking about.

“I haven’t done anything!” Peter said, proud that his voice remained steady even as his heart continued to beat away in his chest. He could hardly think over the fear and his headache was only getting worse, his senses continuing to weaken.

“You corrupted my  _ son _ ,” Gerard spat the word—literally, his saliva landing on Peter’s pant leg—as he began to pace the room. “Christopher was so talented before you came along, before you  _ seduced  _ him. He had so much promise and because of you he is nothing anymore!”

“What—what are you talking about?” Peter tried to get out, though his voice cracked. There was no way. Christopher, his Christopher, couldn’t be an Argent.

“Don’t play stupid with me!” Gerard shouted as he backhanded Peter’s face. Peter’s neck snapped to the side with the force of the hit and his ears rung. 

“I don’t—what?” Peter tried, but Gerard grabbed a fistful of his hair and used it to pull Peter’s head up to face him.

“After I gut you, I’m going to kill him,” Gerard hissed, spittle flying into Peter’s face, and he tried to move away but the hand in his hair kept him in place. His scalp stung at the burn, but he still tried to move his face away. 

“Kate!” Gerard barked, and he held his hand out expectantly and Peter let his eyes leave Gerard’s face long enough to look over at Kate. She was smiling.

“But Daddy! I wanted to torture him a little too,” Kate said with a pout and Peter felt his stomach fall as the last bit of hope died in his chest. He was going to die here.

“Kate,” Gerard said again, though this time his voice was quiet and Peter wasn’t sure what significance that held—why him speaking just above a whisper was more frightening than him shouting—but Kate walked over to the wall far wall and pulled down a short knife with a curved blade.

“Now you,” Gerard began once the knife was placed in his outstretched hand, “Are going to sit still for me.”

Peter couldn’t nod or shake his head even if he wanted to. Not that it mattered, seeing as he couldn’t move. The ropes had long since burned at the skin of his wrists, but the pain felt dull compared to the pounding in his head. He knew the wolfsbane had long ago taken affected, but it was terrifying to watch its effects. 

Peter watched as Gerard used the knife to slice Peter’s shirt straight down the middle before pushing it out of the way. The metal was cold when it was pressed against his skin and Peter held his breath as Gerard dragged the tip in a straight line down Peter’s abdomen. The cut stung and Peter stared down at his own skin, waiting for it to stitch itself back together only to let out a sob when it didn’t.

He was going to die. 

Kate clapped her hands as she laughed, though the only noise Gerard made was a grunt. The next cut was less of a surprise, though it was no less terrifying. Peter knew his eyes were watering—the thin cuts stung, but Gerard wasn’t going deep enough to cause any real pain, not with how sharp the knife was—and Peter couldn’t stop thinking that he was going to  _ die _ . 

The worst part, Peter though through the haze his brain had settled into, was watching his skin stay open, blood dripping down in fine lines until it pooled at his waist. He had bled before, yes, but never like this. Never enough that he couldn’t wipe it away with a finger. 

Peter refused to make a noise, though he almost cried out when Gerard cut horizontally through the two cuts he had already made. It stung when Gerard dragged the knife through the already open sting and Peter could hardly see through his tears.

It was only on the next cut that Peter made any noise, a small whimper escaping his throat when Gerard dug the knife deeper than he had before. It more than stung,  _ burned _ , and Peter wasn’t able to keep the small noise in.

Gerard didn’t get to touch the knife to his skin again. The gunshot was a surprise and Peter sucked in a surprised breath when Gerard’s hand was shot through. Peter’s head whipped towards the stairs the second Gerard’s hand was out of his hair—the man had fallen back onto his ass—and he let hope swell in his chest at the sight of Christopher there, handgun drawn and aimed at his family.

“Step back, Katie,” Peter hardly heard the words with his weakened senses, but the tone of Christopher’s voice caused a shiver to run down his spine. He sounded furious.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Gerard yelled, pushing himself to his feet and reaching behind him. Christopher fired again and Peter watched as blood began to seep out of Gerard’s shoulder. 

“You’re not going to touch him again.” Christopher said and Peter felt himself calming at the finality in Christopher’s tone.

“You have no idea what you’re doing, boy!” Gerard said, no longer shouting by voice carrying his anger through the room. He took a step forward and Peter flinched at the third gunshot. He watched with wide eyes when the bullet hit only centimetres below the first one.

“If you take another step toward him, I’m going to kill you,” Christopher’s voice sounded closer but Peter didn’t turn his neck to see if he had come down the stairs. Gerard and Kate were still in front of him and now that he had a possibility of living, he wasn’t going to chance it.

“You’re far too weak for that!” Gerard didn’t get to say nothing else. His foot hadn’t even touched the ground before Christopher fired again and blood sprayed out the back of Gerard’s head. Kate’s scream was loud and she fell to her knees beside her father.

Christopher was behind him in a moment, untying the ropes at his wrist and helping him stand. Peter couldn't seem to look away. Gerard’s eyes were still open, staring up at the ceiling even as blood continued to pool around him. Peter stumbled once he was on his feet, but Christopher was there to steady him. He must have made a noise, because Kate turned to look at them.

“Don’t make me do it, Katie,” Christopher said, though any anger was drained from his voice. He sounded tired, exhausted and Peter realized the boy had just shot his father.

_ Christopher was an Argent _ . 

The realization seemed dim when compared to what he just saw, but it was enough to have him pulling his arm away. He looked at Christopher then, though the older boy wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were rimmed-red as he stared at his… well, his sister, Peter guessed. Peter backed towards the stairs—every step pulling uncomfortably at the cuts along his stomach—and he grabbed at the back of Christopher’s shirt when he didn’t follow.

He wasn’t going to leave him here. Couldn’t.

“Chris,” Peter’s voice was hardly more than a whisper, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Christopher didn’t say anything, but he did step back. His gun was still raised, aimed at Kate, and Peter gave them one last look before he turned away. He knew turning his back on Christopher wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be cautious. Christopher had just saved him, had  _ killed his own father _ , and Peter knew if he hadn’t shown up, he would be dead. 

Peter took a deep breath and had to balance himself on the railing as he swayed forward. He—he was alive, he was going to  _ stay  _ alive. Already he could feel the effects of the wolfsbane wearing off and he knew Christopher must have done something about that. He wasn’t healing yet, nor were his senses back, but he could feel the lightest flicker of recolonization from his wolf. 

He was going to live, and Peter almost fell with the way his body sagged at the revelation. Peter forced himself up the rest of the stairs, and he stood silently in the hall when Christopher closed the basement door behind them. Christopher slowly turned to face him and Peter watched as his face went from enraged to devastated in a matter of seconds, eyes racking over Peter’s bare torso.

His mind felt fuzzy, still, almost like he was dreaming. The cuts weren’t bad, though they were still bleeding, aggravated by walking, and his wrists were raw from where the rope burned into them. Peter took a deep breath and he almost cheered when it wasn’t laboured by wolfsbane in the air. Christopher took a step forward and Peter let him, foolishly, trail his hands down Peter’s sides.

His wolf was more alert and it strained toward Christopher. Peter was too weak to argue, to keep up the walls he had built months ago, and he stepped forward. Christopher's hands slipped to the small of Peter’s back and pulled him forward, gentle, so gentle, until they were pressed together.

The pressure burned at the cuts along his belly, but the comfort Peter was taking from the contact outweighed the pain. He breathed in deep, pine and dirty sage and old wolfsbane—the smell that had always burned at the back of his throat before—and Peter sagged into Christopher's hold.

The other boy held him up, palms warm where they swept over his bare back—Peter must have lost his shirt when Christopher untied him—and the contact helped to ground him. He had no idea what he was doing, while he was letting an Argent so close, but the thought of being away from Christopher had panic swelling in his throat. He could feel the worry from his Alpha in his chest, and he tried his best to send reassurance. He was going to be okay.

He was going to be okay.

“I’m sorry,” Chris whispered, and his voice broke as he spoke. 

Peter nodded, not trusting himself yet to speak. He let himself take the comfort Christopher was providing and his wolf soaked it up. He let the hug go on for long minutes, his own hands coming up to fist the edges of Christopher’s t-shirt.

He stepped back, though, wanting to leave, to get away. He still didn’t feel safe—not with Kate still downstairs, an entire arsenal of weapons at her disposal. The thought had him whining, distress building in his throat but then Chris was there, smoothing his thumbs under Peter’s eyes and bringing him back to the present.

“I’m going to take you home, alright?” Peter nodded, and he let Chris take his hand and lead him out of the house and to his truck.

Christopher helped him into the passenger seat though didn't bother with his seat belt—his stomach still hadn’t healed, though he could feel the effects of the wolfsbane wearing off quicker now that he was outside—and he leaned back in the seat. He knew he was dropping, the adrenaline that had kept him going leaving his body at once and leaving him rung out and exhausted. 

He let his head tip back and rest against the seat, his eyes slipping closed. He twisted his fingers with Christopher when the boy reached for his hand, steadying Christopher's shaking fingers with his own.

“Thank you,” Peter said, voice no more than a whisper as he let himself drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhm okay. this was not the plan for the day, but seeing as it was the last day of Petopher week and the first day of WIP week, I decided that finishing this was something I was going to do? Seven hours and 4.7k words, here ya go!
> 
> also, ya know how i mentioned that i _never_ post something when i write it anymore? well, I wrote this today. and am posting it today. Fun times.
> 
> Teen Wolf 'Cest Appreciation Week is coming up very soon and I am very excited to begin posting! I cannot believe that the event has taken off in the way that it has! woohoo!
> 
> fun fact, my tumblr is different since i started to post this fic. here is the new link:  
> [my tumblr!!!](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! This fic is taking so much out of me. This first part took me literal days to write. I am having such a hard time with this story, and it is really, really frustrating me. It is not yet done, though I do plan on it being three chapters long. The second chapter will be posted next Saturday and the third chapter the Saturday after that, so in two weeks it'll be finished. I have a lot I could say about this fic. First, it's something I have never tried to write before. Writing a de-aged character is _hard_. It's near impossible to work through how they would react to certain things, because there is no reference out there. With that said, I do really enjoy how I've written Peter in this story, and hope I enjoy how I write Christopher in the following chapters!
> 
> This was a heavy story. It will get sadder, and I am not prepared lol. I write _a lot_ of fluff, and this is not in my wheel house, at all! I think It came out okay, though! I am excited to continue it, and work through the entire thing. I’m looking forward to seeing it finished!
> 
> Christmas is just around the corner, so Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone else! Merry Yule for those who are finishing up your celebrations today :)
> 
>  
> 
> my tumblr!!!


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